


Cymbals

by Strange and Intoxicating -rsa- (strangeandintoxicating)



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rock Band, M/M, Promptio Week Day 6
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-01
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2018-11-21 23:27:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11367831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strangeandintoxicating/pseuds/Strange%20and%20Intoxicating%20-rsa-
Summary: Band!AUPrompto is absolutely head over heels in love with Couerl Killers, more specifically their drummer Gladio Amicitia. A meeting in a bar changes everything and Prompto isn't sure if he's in over his head.Or maybe, well.... maybe this is a symbol.





	1. Chapter 1

Prompto was going to rip off Noctis’s head the minute he got back from wherever he had disappeared off to. That was one hundred percent absolutely clear, no ifs ands or buts about it. This was his fault. Every single moment of it.

Prompto swallowed back both the fear and a sip of the drink he had shoved into his hand when he entered the bar, staring over the heads of half a dozen patrons who were too busy to notice him. It was probably for the best; Prompto didn't want too many people to see him. His face was constantly splashed across the cover of Insomnia Times, right next to the Crown Prince puking behind a trash can or getting caught coming out of a gay nightclub covered in whipped cream and without several buttons to his shirt. 

He knew what the people said, how they looked at him. They thought Prompto was the bad influence.

Ha. As if.

Prompto would have preferred staying at home with Mr. Cat-Astro-Fe-Line (affectionately know as "Mr. Cat" by Prompto and “your monster puked a hairball in my boot… again” by Noct) with a good video game or some music… but Noctis had been so insistent.

And Prompto guessed he could understand why. Noctis had started low-key seeing someone (and not just the see ‘em once, get checked by the royal doctor, and then ditch the number after a few half-hearted messages back.) Prompto knew his best friend better than he knew himself, and if whoever this guy was made Noctis go over the moon, well… it was just going to be something Prompto got used to.

It was kind of nice, actually. Prompto really was happy about his friend finding love in all the right places, but still... getting dragged out of his house for this? Just a shitty bar with shitty, loud people and shitty muー

No. The music was fine. The music was more than fine, and that was what was bothering Prompto the most about the place. The band playing was actually his favorite—Couerl Killers. They had a concert that night, which was half of the reason Prompto wanted to kill Noctis, if he was honest with himself. It had taken him weeks to get tickets to the sold out show, but then Noctis didn't want to go for reasons Prompto couldn't even imagine, and.... well....

He didn't want to leave Noctis alone. When Noctis was left alone for too long, bad things tended to happen.

So, Prompto had sighed and sold off his ticket to Cindy because Noctis pouted and whined and, well...

It was his best friend and he was supposed to meet his best friend's boyfriend. Even.... even the Couerl Killers would have to wait. As depressing as it was.... Prompto would have to go another night without getting to see Gladio Amicitia beat his drum kit like Prompto wanted him to beat his a— 

Nope. Dangerous thoughts. Very, very dangerous thoughts.

Prompto sighed as he squeezed himself between two circular tables toward the little black leather loveseat in the corner of the bar. Someone had spilled their drink across the floor and it was already seeping into the rug, but Prompto did nothing but nudge it with his toe as he slid down into the leather.

He was happy when the song finally changed, mostly due to the painful erection straining at his tight leopard pants. The last thing he wanted to do was go thinking about Gladio.

Gladio, rock king extraordinaire. Sex in tight leather pants. A walking God among men, with his dark hair and smoldering eyes. His biceps were bigger than Prompto's head and he could imagine the drumsticks pumping through the air. What he would have given to feel those long, strong fingers pressing inside of him, coxing orgasm after orgasm from him.

By the Astrals, not having gotten laid in a while was making his head swim.

"You mind if I sit here?"

Prompto's heart nearly dropped out of his chest.

"Uh."

"Haha, I'll take that as a yes."

Gladio Amicitia. Gladio. Gladio Amicitia. The Gladio Amicitia.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck—

He was the most gorgeous thing Prompto had ever seen. And he was real. Not like the high-definition glossy magazines Prompto had jacked off to since he was in high school, but like, really really. Really _really_ real. 

Prompto had to bite back the urge to scream when Gladio squeezed himself between the beer-slick circular tables and no—this couldn't possibly be happening.

It couldn't.

No.

"You're Prompto, right?"

What. What. No. How—how? Who? What?

 _What_?

"Your friend. Noct? Yeah. Said you'd be over here."

He looked.... Prompto wasn't sure what the word he should have used was, but the only thing coming to mind as.... clean. His leather jacket, his boots, even his mussed hair.

The leather seat creaked as Gladio sunk himself in next to Prompto, stretching out his arm to grab the back of the loveseat. Right next to Prompto's head.

Oh, oh no.

"You.... you know Noct?"

Gladio snorted. "Kinda. He's been hanging on Iggy for the last couple weeks like glue."

Prompto couldn't stop his eyes from widening. Ignis Scientia, the infamously closed off and most sought-after member of Couerl Killers.... was dating Noctis?

"Yeah, felt the same way. The Prince dating Iggy—it's been wild."

"He never told me."

Prompto didn't want to be angry at his best friend, but.... how long had Noctis known that Prompto was absolutely in love with the Couerl Killers? And he had never once thought to mention that he was dating one of them?

But, no matter how angry he was at Noctis for not telling him, what was worse was that Noctis... Noctis hadn't trusted him enough to tell him. And after all of the years they had spent together, through thick and thin, that hurt worse than Prompto ever imagined. 

And now, to have that pain suddenly pushed on him by his favorite person on the planet?

"It's okay. I wasn't even supposed to know. I found out by accident when I caught them having sex in the van." 

"Ew, too much info."

"You have no idea. And plus, that place is disgusting. Libertus takes off his shoes and the damn thing reeks like death for a week."

Prompto had no idea why Gladio Amicitia was trying to comfort him, but.... it was working.

It was working a lot better than Prompto wanted to admit.

"He actually said you were a fan of ours. I was surprised he didn't ask for tickets to tonight's gig. I'm sure Iggy woulda bent over backwards if Noct so much as batted his damn lashes at him."

Prompto bit down on his lip. "Oh. Yeah.... I guess so."

"Well," Gladio said as he stretched his arm above his head and then put it back next to Prompto's head. "Next time you guys should come. I'll put you on the list." Prompto thought for the briefest of moments that he had felt the soft tickle of the Gladio Amicitia's fingers against his hair, but no. It couldn't have been. Nah.

Then it happened again, and of course it did—he was a drummer. His fingers needed to be doing something at all times. Duh, prompto told himself as he tried his best to control his breathing. The last thing that he wanted was for Gladio to realize that he was on the verge of a full-blown panic attack.

Thankfully, or unthankfully, the door to the bar opened and Prompto caught the face of someone very familiar. He nearly jumped out of his seat when he caught sight of the Kingsglaive.

"Nyx!"

"Nyx?" Gladio questioned as he turned toward the door as well.

"Hey, Prom." The familiar and always welcoming face of the man who spent most of his time tailing Noct popped into view. He was in his civvies, but Prompto would have known that face no matter what. When he managed his way between the chairs and the people and toward them, Nyx leaned down to yell into Prompto's ear. "Got a text telling me a certain someone snuck off the leash again."

Prompto felt the fingers near the back of his head and recognized a thumb reaching out to press against the junction where his hair met his neck. He had to bite the inside of his cheek to not make an undignified sound.

Nyx rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. You'll watch out for him and not let him do anything stupid. But we both know Noct's a little shit."

Nyx could say that again.

Prompto opened his mouth to reply, but was caught off guard by the way Nyx's head turned toward Gladio, his dark eyes pinning the drummer with a stare. "Sorry, Prom. Am I interrupting something?"

Prompto shook his head so quickly that he felt his brain hit his skull. "No, no. Everything's cool, Nyx. Promise." He wanted to say that things were more than fine, because he could feel Gladio's fingers so close to his head and really, there was no place on the planet that he would have rather been. But Nyx had always been protective of him, thinking it was his job to keep Prompto out of trouble just as much as Noct.

"Okay, Prom. If you're sure. And who are you?"

"Gladio Amicitia. You?"

"That's classified."

Prompto reached out and smacked Nyx on the arm. "Ignore him. This is Nyx. He's Noct's Kingsglaive." Well, one of many, but Nyx was certainly Noct's favorite.

Gladio nodded his head. "Uh. Cool. Noct is in the VIP room with Ignis.... you... might want to give them a few minutes."

Nyx stood up, his leather jacket (unintentionally?) smacking into Gladio. "Ugh. At least it isn't the van again."

Gladio seemed to want to say something, but he didn't. Prompto couldn't blame him. The first time he met Nyx he was so scared he almost wet himself. Of course, Gladio no doubt would have been able to pick Nyx up, especially if the Insomnia Music Report's interview was true and he could bench press a chocobo, but Nyx still had more training. A lot more training.

"Look, Prom. You need anything you let me know. I'll take you home, okay?" Nyx reached out and let his fingers run through Prompto's hair. It was a comforting gesture that made Prompto smile.

When the Glaive left, Gladio quirked his eyebrow—the one with the scar from the fight he got into when he was sixteen with a rival band—and asked, "So. Your.... boyfriend?"

Prompto couldn't make the words work, so instead he vehemently shook his head.

This, at least, made Gladio smile.

"Good."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahaha, how many of you thought I abandoned this? I abandon nothing!

One beer became two, and two became three, and Prompto was feeling pretty good by the fourth. The beer was almost as flowing as the conversation, though Gladio had taken to drinking soda instead, and Gladio was just as receptive in listening to a drunk Prompto ramble on about his photography and how the King had asked him, _him_ , to do the official photography for Noctis's upcoming birthday celebration.

Gladio told him about touring through all of Lucis, how they had even gone to play in their guitarist, Aranea's, hometown of Gralea. He told Prompto about the delicious cuisine on the gondolas in Altissia and about how he had actually seen a real life behemoth on the Lucian Mainland.

When Gladio spoke, Prompto wanted to do nothing but to crawl into his voice. There was a heaviness to it, something that pulled Prompto in. He wanted to drown in the thick baritone, allow himself to drunkenly do something that he would regret in the morning.

 _Regret_ …

Would he regret it, though? Really?

And Gladio's face was so close... would Gladio mind if he just closed the distance between them? Would he mind if Prompto kissed him and grabbed his leather jacket with both fists to pull him closer?

Prompto could imagine going home with him, falling into bed with him, fucking him until they were both boneless and exhausted and the beer on their tongues disappeared into morning reminders of drunken kisses and secret shame.

Something was building up in Prompto's stomach when Gladio helped him up to his feet and they made their way out of the small bar. Prompto saw just a hint of black hair and raucous laughter he knew had to be Noct, but... There was Ignis Scientia next to him, and Prompto didn't have the courage to go to his best friend and ask him what the fuck to do.

Noctis would have just slapped him on the ass and sent him home with Gladio.

"Hey, here. Take my jacket. It's cold."

Prompto nearly lost his footing when he felt strong hands wrap a thick leather jacket around his shoulders. Prompto laughed, breathless, and had to resist the urge to bury his nose into the fabric. He would have looked absolutely ridiculous, and Prompto definitely didn’t want to come off that way. Definitely not.

“You’re just a bundle of sunshine, aren’t you?” Gladio asked as Prompto stumbled in a skip down the sidewalk, turning to grab Gladio’s hand. It was warm, just like his jacket.

If it hadn’t been for the beer, Prompto knew he wouldn’t have done it. He wouldn’t have laced their fingers together as though it was the most natural thing on the planet.

“Better sunshine then a sourpuss.” Prompto snickered. “Like Mr. Cat.”

Gladio quirked his eyebrows. “The cat that puked in Noct’s boots?”

Prompto pulled Gladio forward, trusting his drunk feet and wherever they were taking them. “Yup. My cat. Good cat. Noct deserves it.”

“Trouble in paradise?”

Prompto shook his head. “Noct didn’t give Mr. Cat the right treats. He deserves whatever he gets.” Prompto could feel the hand tighten around his. It felt... really nice. Nicer than it really had any right to feel, especially since the butterflies in his stomach had yet to give up. "Um..."

Prompto went to drop Gladio's hand, but found that their fingers were entwined and Gladio was looking at him down through thick lashes. 

"Your cat sounds really cool. And I'm sure Noct deserved it. He seems that kind of guy."

Prompto frowned just a bit. "Well, he's not really that bad. A lot of stuff.... you know, in the papers. They're wrong about him."

Gladio snorted. "I kinda figured... I mean, they were wrong about you."

Prompto did stumble at that, but Gladio.... Gladio's arms wrapped around his entire body, holding him up.

"Guess you're a sloppy drunk."

"W—wait. You know who I am?" Blood rushed to Prompto's cheeks. Oh, gods. "I swear I wasn't the one into the clubs. And I don't have a drinking problem, I swear!"

Gladio ran his hand against the leather pressed up against Prompto's back. "Kinda figured. You can't handle your liquor. Trust me... I know when people have a problem. Guess you're not the party playboy the gossip rags said you were."

"And you are?"

Gladio winked as he righted Prompto, letting his fingers linger on Prompto for longer than he thought was strictly necessary. Not that Prompto was complaining, of course. He would have done almost anything for Gladio to keep touching him.

What a groupie.

Prompto swallowed. Oh... groupie.

Gladio....

There were plenty of rumors about the fandoms drummer, some of which made Prompto's blood boil and made his cock get hard at the same time. It was jealousy, that much was obvious. Prompto couldn't even explain it to himself; it was a childhood crush, staring up at those dark eyes and those tattoos on the glossy magazine covers, and Prompto didn't know Gladio. 

But now having met him, having sat next to the man for hours and felt his hands against his skin.... Part of Prompto knew he wanted them to be a little true. The parts about how many girls and guys claimed to have been with him. The wild nights, the insane parties, the amazing sex—

Prompto knew that it was dangerous territory he was heading down, something that Noctis could get away with because he was the Prince, but Prompto would be branded with even worse names than what the gossip rags claimed about him. 

Prompto grabbed at the lapels of Gladio's jacket, pulling it closer. It really was so comforting. Even the Couerl Killers' patch on the arm felt, in some bizarre way, right.

"You okay?" Gladio asked, and Prompto shook the thoughts from his mind, trying his best to smile. He hoped it didn't look too much like a grimace, but from the way Gladio frowned Prompto knew he had failed. "Guess the booze went to your head."

"I... I'm good. I'm cool. Totally chill."

"Most chill people don't need to say they're chill."

"Good... point..."

"Don't worry about it, Prom."

 _Prom_. Prompto couldn't help but smile at the nickname as he slowly began to walk off in the general direction of where he thought his apartment was, hoping that Gladio would follow. 

He did. When he slipped his hand back into Prompto's, it only made Prompto's heart beat faster.

"Where we going?"

Prompto whistled out a bit of a tune. "You're gunna meet Mr. Cat. I live like right around the street. Not like a minute aw—"

Oh. He lived a minute away. His apartment. With the posters of Gladio's glistening body hammering at his drum kit plastered on his walls, the signed china Prompto spent a small fortune to get his hands on mounted right above his television. 

"Fuck," Prompto whispered out and turned to Gladio. "Uh, I'm—I mean, maybe it's not—"

Gladio raised their entwined fingers to his mouth and pressed a kiss firmly down. "Don't worry, Sunshine." Gladio let his kiss linger for a moment before he leaned closer, his breath ghosting against Prompto's mouth. "I—"

There was a sudden honking noise and the flash of a light, and Prompto's soul escaped his body as Gladio pulled back. He put his hand at his brow and turned to look into the headlights of the car.

"Shit."

Prompto barely had a moment to collect his thoughts as the sound of a car door opening and slamming, then the yell of, "Gladiolus—really?" filtered through the air as a woman stomped in front of the car, muting the headlights.

Prompto blinked out the stars from his eyes when he saw her—she was beautiful in her anger. Her pale blonde hair was tied up in a messy bun, the straggles of her hair braided like a crown around her head. She was wearing a lacy, pale cream dress and her legs seemed to go for miles. There wasn't a bit of makeup on her face, but it didn't mean she wasn't breathtaking in her beauty.

"Gladiolus Amicitia—I swear to the Gods and all that is Holy—"

Oh, oh shit. Was this Gladio's girlfriend?

"Luna—"

The woman, Luna, crossed her arms over her chest and walked closer. Her nose was red from the cold and Prompto could smell her perfume—an expensive, soft smell that no doubt cost more than Prompto's rent—waft through the air.

He could also see her shaking hands, and he was pretty sure that wasn't from the cold.

"Do not 'Luna' me, Gladiolus. I have half a mind to leave you on your lonesome right here. What have I said about—"

Gladio looked apologetically to Prompto. "Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm not supposed to—"

Luna put both hands to her head, pushing her hair back. "Yes. _You are not supposed to._ This is something we have spoken about half a million times. And you do it again and again." Luna's narrowed eyes landed on Prompto, and he gulped.

"I... I didn't—I don't. I..."

Luna raised her hand up to silence Prompto. "How many, Gladiolus?"

"None, Luna."

Luna cocked her eyebrow. "So, you're saying if I walk into that bloody bar and—"

"I said none, alright? Fuck, Lu."

Prompto bit down on his lip when Luna looked back to him. "Is he telling the truth?"

"I really—I don't know. I didn't, like... we didn't. I'm so sorry—I didn't know he was taken." Prompto should have known that someone as gorgeous as Gladio had to have a girlfriend, even if he was taking others on the side. "I'm—I'm not that kind of person. I don't sleep with guys with girlfriends."

The blonde woman paused for a moment, blinking. "Taken?" she finally managed, letting her hands fall from her head. "I'm Gladiolus's manager, love."

"You mean a constant pain in my ass—"

Luna sent Gladio a glare that went straight through. "Be that as it may, Gladiolus knows better than to be at a bar."

"Iggy asked me to go. And it wasn't like I was, y'know—"

Luna's nostrils flared. "Ignis should very well know the rules. Why would he...?" Luna trailed off as she looked at Prompto. "Ah. I... see. Then I apologize for interrupting."

Gladio turned to Prompto. "I'm so sorry about this, Prom. I think I need to talk with Luna. This is kinda important. Not that you aren't, but—" Gladio sighed. He licked his lips before leaning down, pressing a soft kiss to Prompto's mouth. "Thanks for the great night. I'll.... I'll see you around."

Prompto went to take off the jacket, but Gladio shook his head. "Keep it. Give it back to me next time. I'm sorry I can't meet Mr. Cat."

 _Next time_.

Prompto pulled the leather jacket close as he watched Luna and Gladio get back into the car and drive away. He wanted to be angry, but at the same time...

Gladio Amicitia promised there would be a next time.

Gladio Amicitia had kissed him.

Gladio Amicitia had _kissed_ him.

"I gotta take down those posters," Prompto whispered into the breeze, a promise to himself just as much to the man who had driven off with Prompto's heart in his pocket.


	3. Chapter 3

"Dude. Dude. How could you do that to me, Noct? Seriously—how the hells did you think that it was okay to invite me to Gladiolus Amicitia's afterparty and not like, warn me? And never mind the fact that you're seeing the vocalist of my favorite band, but, uh. Dude." Prompto shook the lapels of Noctis's jacket again for good measure. " _Dude!ˆ"_

"Sorry, sorry," Noctis yawned. "I figured it would be a surprise. You know you wouldn't have shown up if I had told you whose party it was."

"Gladio's manager showed up, Noctis. The manager for Couerl Killers showed up, and she thinks I'm a godsdamned _groupie_."

Noctis snorted as he grabbed Prompto's hands, prying his jacket from his hands. Prompto tried to keep hold, but he let out a groan and pushed Noctis away, instead running his hands through his hair.

"I'm sure Luna doesn't think you're a groupie."

"Did she think you were a groupie?" Prompto retorted.

"Of course not. I'm royalty. She practically swooned when I walked through the door." Noctis toed off his boots and tossed them into the corner of Prompto's apartment. He then made sure to take up as much space as he could on Prompto's other couch, minding the section of the cushion that had concaved to the shape of Noctis's ass.. "Seriously though, you're being too hard on yourself, Prom."

"Yeah, well. You're the prince and I'm the prince's dumb sidekick that always gets caught leaving clubs with your drunk ass." Prompto sighed and threw himself onto the couch, staring up at the wall. Gladio's face smirked back, his drumsticks pointing directly at Prompto. Those tight leather pants looked like they were painted on, but Prompto had gotten to see them in the flesh. He had even gotten to put his hands on the man, and damn it, Prompto wanted _more_.

"I'm a groupie. I've become a groupie." Prompto turned away from the poster on the wall towards Noctis. "I swear I should let Mr. Cat puke on everything you love."

"You gunna let him puke on Ignis?"

Prompto rolled his eyes and reached behind him, grabbing hold of his pillow and throwing it as hard as he could manage at Noctis's head. "Everything you love. Everything."

Noctis batted the pillow off his face and squished the pillow under his head. "You say that, but it's all because of me that you got to meet Mr. Sexy Drummer."

Prompto slammed his head against the arm of the couch. "Give me back my pillow."

"No, you threw it at me. And plus you owe me for sending Gladio your way. You and I both know you would never have let your balls drop enough to go and talk to him. So, I sent him to you."

"What exactly did you say, anyway?" Prompto looked over to Noctis, who was looking at the posters lining the walls with the same scrutiny Prompto used when the litter box was looking a little full. "Because if you said something super embarrassing—"

"Chill. I just told him that you were a friend of mine and that you were super into the music. Asked him to do me a solid and make sure no one took advantage of you." Noctis snorted. "I was kinda hoping that he would do it himself, but. Meh. I guess first base is something. I'm disappointed you didn't bring him home with you, but... well... I wouldn't want to bring him here, either."

"If I had another pillow I would throw it at you."

"Thanks."

Prompto huffed as he turned toward the back of the couch, letting his hand gently touch the worn leather jacket. Prompto didn't want to seem weird or creepy in front of Noctis, otherwise he would have draped the leather over him like a blanket. It was Gladiolus Amicitia's famous leather jacket, and it was in his apartment. His very, very run-down apartment...

"He kissed me. Do you think..."

"That he wanted to do more than kiss you?" Noctis asked. "Yeah, pretty sure he wanted to do more. I guess it's shit luck that Luna needed him. Did she say what for?"

Prompto hummed. "No, not really sure. She looked really mad, though. I thought for a second she was dating him."

Noctis laughed. "Oh, man. No way. Pretty sure she's dating Crowe."

Crowe Altius was one of the most beautiful women in all of Eos, and she was even more beautiful when she had a bass guitar in her hand. Prompto closed his eyes and tried to imagine Luna and Crowe together—the prim and proper manager and the loose, wild-child bassist. "Huh. Yeah, I guess I can see that."

But what Prompto really wanted to focus on was Gladio's hands on his shoulders, the smell of his cologne, the kiss that had all but melted Prompto's brain into goo.

"But really, Prompto?"

"Hm?"

"What did you need me for? I mean, other than the massive freak out that your one true love knows you exist and definitely wants to fuck your brains out. But really—Ignis was gunna cook for me, and you really haven't lived until that man has made you a full brunch in bed."

Prompto sent one last look at the poster of Gladio on his wall before he pushed himself to a seated position. "Remember how you offered to give me your old furniture?"

"No. I'm pretty sure I offered to buy you new furniture and you told me that your place was perfectly fine." Noctis exacerbated his point by sticking his finger right into the hole on the couch cushion. "It's a cigarette burn Prompto, and you don't smoke."

"Yeah, yeah. Well, uh... maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to take you up on that offer."

Noctis wagged his eyebrows. "Oooh, thinking about having some nasty, dirty sex in your apartment?" Noctis pulled out his phone and clicked a few buttons. "Well, you know I'm all for getting you laid—you want the metal or wood?"

"Dude, you can just give me your old furniture, it's fine."

Noctis continued clicking at his phone. "Prompto—metal or wood?"

"You know what, forget I said anything—"

Noctis looked up for a second before shrugging. "Okay, metal it is. Pretty sure Glaido'd break a wooden bed anyway. And... done!"

"Shit, Noct! I just was gunna take your old furniture. You said you were sick of the leather."

Noctis threw his phone onto the couch and tossed the pillow back to Prompto. "Oh, I _was_ sick of the leather. I was sick of the leather until I found out that Ignis Scientia looks very, very good naked on my leather couch. And my leather recliner. And my stainless steel kitchen table." Noctis smirked, eyes staring up at the ceiling. "Very, very good. Especially when he wears only his leather riding gloves—"

"Gah! TMI, Noct. TMI."

"You know you'll be dying to fill me in when you take Drummer Boy for a ride." Noctis frowned for a second and then looked seriously at Prompto. "Hey... Prom?"

"Yeah?"

"Are you gunna leave your shrine up, or should I call someone to come paint these walls?"

Prompto simply responded by smacking Noctis with his pillow again.


End file.
